Truth in the Written Word
by Smackalicious
Summary: McGee and Ziva find themselves having a slight misunderstanding. Fluffy McGiva.


**Title: Truth in the Written Word  
Pairing: McGee/Ziva  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: Het  
Cat: Romance, Fluff  
Spoilers: None.  
Warnings: None.  
Summary: McGee and Ziva find themselves having a slight misunderstanding.  
Author's Note: Written as a prize for Lawral for correctly guessing my Hangman puzzle. She told me to surprise her. It inspired my fic.**

"Perfect." McGee grinned at his computer screen. In an instant, Ziva's voice was in his ear.

"What is perfect?" she asked, her face next to his, as he quickly closed out of the window he'd been viewing, but not before printing something out.

"Nothing," he said quickly. Ziva made a small noise of disbelief, so he continued. "I, uh, I'll tell you later."

"You had better, McGee," Ziva breathed into his ear, causing McGee to shiver slightly. "Because if not, I will _force _it out of you." She smiled to herself.

"Stop harassing McGee, Ziva," Gibbs' voice entered the conversation, and Ziva stood, her hands now on the back of McGee's chair. Gibbs raised an eyebrow at her, but continued speaking. "You two plan on leaving sometime this weekend?"

McGee gave Gibbs a confused look. "Well, I don't think we're going _together_, but . . ."

Ziva's laugh filled the room. "I do not think Gibbs was implying that, McGee. Unless you would _like _to spend the weekend with me." She winked at him and he blushed under the combined scrutiny of Ziva and Gibbs.

Gibbs smirked. "Get out of here," he ordered.

"Yes, Boss," McGee said quickly, grabbing his print-out, turning off his computer and standing, as Ziva walked back to her own desk, grabbing her bag and then waiting for McGee to leave.

McGee walked right past Ziva, and she followed him to the elevator, sidling up beside him as they waited for the car to arrive. "So, are you going to tell me now what it is you were looking at?" She grinned again.

He rolled his eyes. "Not yet, Ziva." He gave her a sneaky smile. "But I _will _tell you if you do something for me."

Ziva attempted to not look too interested. "And what might that be?"

"Come over to my place at 8 tonight," he said, his eyes full of mischief. The elevator arrived and he stepped in, turning to face her again as she stood there, pondering his suggestion. "Well, if you _really _want to know, that is."

The doors began to close and McGee grinned to himself, sure he had gotten Ziva. But at the last moment, Ziva's hand slid between the doors and they opened again. She stepped in beside McGee, turning and facing the closing doors before saying, "It is a date."

McGee paced his apartment nervously. So far, this was not going as planned. Ziva called it a date when she agreed to come over. And normally, that wouldn't be an issue, but tonight . . .

He flinched as the doorbell rang. Checking behind him to ensure everything was in its proper place, he made his way to the door, opening it with a large smile. "Hey, Ziva. Glad you could make it."

She stepped inside, and it was then that McGee noticed what she was wearing. He gulped. She had a very low-cut, close-fitting sweater on, and a daring skirt that didn't leave a whole lot to the imagination. She looked really good. Which was . . . not good. Not tonight, anyway.

"I never thought you would ask me over, McGee," Ziva purred, stepping closer to him as he backed away. "I am very glad you did, though. Care to _show _me your surprise from earlier now?" She had managed to make him stop, as they'd reached the barricade of his writing desk, and she pressed herself against him, licking her lips.

"Um, yeah, I guess . . ." McGee responded. He was slowly getting distracted by Ziva's lips. Was that lipstick she was wearing? Or were her lips just that naturally . . . pink?

Ziva took advantage of his distraction to reach up and pull his head towards hers, pressing her lips fervently against his.

At the same moment, a cry of, "Surprise!" sounded out, causing McGee and Ziva to quickly separate, McGee embarrassed and Ziva definitely surprised as they faced a wide-eyed Tony and Abby.

"What is going on?" Ziva asked breathlessly, smoothing her hair and trying to regain her dignity.

"Probie arranged a surprise birthday party for you, Ziva," Tony said, still looking a bit shocked. "I know you're not familiar with a lot of American customs, but _you're _the one who's supposed to be surprised, not us." He turned to McGee, who was blushing madly. "I guess you did a good job of convincing her to come over."

"Tony," McGee moaned, as Ziva looked embarrassed herself. Abby still hadn't said anything. McGee turned his attention to her. "Aren't you going to make some comment, too, Abby?"

She stared at him and finally said, "I picked up the cake." She brought out a small cake that said, "Happy birthday, Ziva!" in green frosting, then smiled innocently.

McGee closed his eyes as Ziva continued to look embarrassed by her behavior. Finally, she spoke. "Thank you for the cake, but I think I will . . . go now . . ." She turned towards the door, as McGee attempted to convince her to stay.

"Ziva, please," he pleaded, following her towards the door. She turned to look at him momentarily, then dipped her head in shame. "Just stay." She looked behind him to Tony and Abby. He sighed and turned around. "Can you guys give us a little privacy, please?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," Tony said, turning to Abby and repeating, "They want some _privacy_." She nodded slowly with him, then took his arm as they walked past McGee and Ziva to the hallway, Tony calling to them, "Let us know when you're ready for the ice cream," as McGee slammed the door in their faces.

McGee was shaking his head as he turned back to Ziva, who still looked completely vulnerable. He frowned. "You okay?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I clearly misread your intentions. I feel like an idiot!" She still hadn't met his eyes.

"Hey," McGee said softly, walking over to her. "You're not an idiot. I had to get you here somehow." Ziva snorted and he grimaced at his own words. "Sorry. I didn't mean it that way . . ."

"Look," Ziva interrupted him, "I thought you were inviting me over because you wanted . . ." She shrugged. "I was wrong and I made a fool of myself. I can accept that."

"But Ziva, you don't have to," McGee attempted to explain. "I wanted you here tonight . . ."

"Yes, for a birthday party," Ziva said. "Thank you, by the way."

"You're welcome," McGee mumbled, still frowning. "But you're still not understanding."

Ziva finally looked up at him. "You do not have to take pity on me. I am a grown woman. I will not _die_ if you tell me you do not see me in that way."

"I'm not taking pity on you, Ziva, can't you see that?" McGee said, now turning to desperation. "I arranged this party because I wanted to give you this." He walked over to his writing desk, the site of the earlier kiss, and picked up a card, then walked back to where Ziva was standing, now looking interested. He held the card out to her. "Read it if you don't believe me."

"McGee, I'm . . ." Ziva started, now beginning to see that he was telling the truth, that he felt the same way about her that she apparently felt about him.

"Just read it," he said softly, and she nodded, carefully opening the envelope and removing the card, which included the folded piece of paper McGee had printed out earlier. She began to read.

_Ziva,_

_Well, by now you know that I've arranged a surprise birthday party for you. Surprise, by the way. I've always been better at expressing myself through writing than out loud, so that's why I'm writing you this card. Though I'm not really proving myself to be the best-selling author I am with this, am I? I'll just stop with the small talk and get to the point._

_I like you, Ziva. And I know that sounds like something some 13-year-old boy would do, write a note to a girl he has a crush on, but I can assure you that I'm serious. I've always thought you were one of the most beautiful, interesting, exotic women I'd ever met, ever since I first met you. And I've always tried to be your friend, someone you could come to if you needed something, but now . . . I want something more. I'll understand if you don't feel the same way, but I just wanted to let you know that I think you're amazing and I think we could have a wonderful future together. At least give it some thought._

_Happy birthday, Ziva. You're an incredible woman._

_Love,_

_Tim_

Ziva looked up from reading, a look of slight shock on her face. "McGee, I had no . . ."

"I know you didn't, Ziva," McGee said softly. "But do you believe me now?"

She suddenly smiled, and nodded. "You could never lie to me," she said softly.

McGee grinned. "So can we have your party now?" he asked.

Ziva's smile turned into a devious smirk. "Forget Tony and Abby. I would much rather celebrate alone with you."

McGee's grin widened, then fell slightly as he remembered . . . "What about the cake? Abby's going to be devastated."

"Oh, trust me," Ziva said, still smirking, "the cake will not go forgotten."

McGee laughed to himself and gathered Ziva in his arms. "Happy birthday, Ziva."

Ziva let out a content sigh and said, "Yes, it is one of the best I've had in awhile." She looked up at him and said, "Thank you, Tim," before giving him another kiss, which slowly grew deeper. McGee backed them towards his bedroom, slamming the door to the sounds of Tony and Abby pounding on his apartment door.

Yes, this was certainly a birthday to remember.

**THE END!**


End file.
